Brain World, page 14
"When do the annual ceremonies begin?" Dorn asked. Rosemary said, "We don't know."
She was far from the smiling, bright Rosemary that the Section G agents had first met on Einstein. On the face of it, she had been under pressure long enough for her defenses to have collapsed. She was obviously in a state of despair. Ronny frowned and said to her, "What are you doing here, anyway? I thought from what Marvin said back on Einstein that you were sending a delegation of your highest intelligences for this romp. You told us you were comparatively stupid."
"That was a fake," she sighed. "We wanted to put one of our number in a position to set you up. I was chosen."
Following their conference, the three Section G agents were given a conducted tour of the premises. The rest of the building bore out what they had found in the living room. It was simple, to the point of being stark, but the furniture was comfortable. The bathrooms were surprisingly similar to those of Earth settled worlds, but, once again, Ronny decided, a humanoid life form would eventually come up with approximately the same toilet equipment; the bathtub, the shower, the flush toilet. The dining room was something of a mystery, however. The Einstein five had never figured out how it worked. Periodically, the legless, anti-gravity dining room table would disappear. In moments, it would become visible again, bearing sufficient food for the number of persons present. None of them were particularly happy with the strange food, but it obviously supported their life form. Rosemary hated it and would eat only enough to keep her going.
The bedrooms were, once more, stark, and with no facilities for storing clothes. It occurred to Ronny that the Dawnmen had no need to store clothes. With a matter conversion unit, and he assumed that each dwelling had one, you could make new clothing, or anything else you might wish, at any time.
The beds were about half as high as the Earthlings were used to, but quite comfortable. There were no covers whatsoever, not even a bedsheet. One slept on the equivalent of a mattress which seemed similar to a water-mattress, though filled with something other than water. They never did find out what.
Each room had one or more large windows, according to its size, and they could look out without difficulty over the fabulous countryside. It was difficult to realize that from the exterior the house was invisible and all in it. Only by opening the front door could it be seen that a dwelling was here.
The building was fairly large, with five bedrooms in all, each with two beds. To accommodate the newcomers, those from Einstein did some switching about. Lee Chang and Ronny took over one room, Dorn another. Rosemary had made a wry mouth when it became obvious that Ronny was to sleep with the Chinese girl. However, Ronny suspected that she was probably not sleeping alone, but with one, or possibly more, of the Einstein men. He rather doubted that Rosemary slept alone very often, not with the sexual mores under which she had been raised.
The inspection of the premises over, they retired again to the living room. Ronny pulled up a chair before the floating table top and brought forth his communicator. He had his fingers mentally crossed. In view of what Rosemary had said about their time instruments being disrupted, all he needed was for his Section G communicator not to function. He was relieved to get an answer when he called the Alexander Hamilton. Ronny reported briefly to John Fodor, who looked worried, but obviously knew that there was nothing that he could do. Thus far, he hadn't spotted any signs of Dawnworld spacecraft, which could only be a relief to him.
Ronny told him that there was no night and day here and that evidently you slept when you became tired. He was beginning to feel that way already, so if he didn't report in within the next six hours, the captain was not to become alarmed. He would as soon as sleep was over.
The captain gone, Ronny called the Octagon on Earth again and was put through to Sid Jakes. He gave him the whole story.
"A gladiator fight?" the assistant to Ross Metaxa protested. "The more I hear about these Dawnmen, the more I disbelieve. How can they be that far advanced and still put up with gladiator fights?"
Ronny shook his head. "They live by traditions and rituals, most of them going back to the dawn of their race. They're bred into them. Evidently, it's impossible to change them, any more than it's possible to change a drone into a worker bee."
"So the story is that if you win, you go free. All but Lee Chang, that is, and the girl from Einstein."
"That's right, Sid," Ronny said lowly.
"Well, you and Dorn take the cloddies, Ronny, and figure out some way of getting the girls off the hook, especially Lee Chang."
"Ha, you dreamer," Ronny growled at him.
"Stiff upper lip, old chappie," Sid Jakes grinned at him. "You'll find some way. You always do."
"Having a wonderful time," Ronny snarled at him. "Wish you were here…instead." He flicked the communicator off and turned back to Dorn and Lee Chang who had been following the reports he had been making.
He snarled, "That grinning funker."
But Lee Chang shook her head. "Poor Sid's worried sick. How would you like to be in his position, sitting helpless there in Greater Washington?" Gil entered and said, "Meal time again. At least the table is freshly loaded with their Dawnworld gook."
They followed him into the dining room where the others had already gathered and found that Rosemary had exaggerated the quality of the food. It wasn't as bad as all that. They were accustomed to none of the basics but they were obviously nourishing. There were even some fruits for dessert that were quite exotic in taste, though less sweet than the Earthlings were used to.
Following the meal, the three Section G agents felt like sleep. They were still used to the routine of the Alexander Hamilton in spite of the daylight that prevailed on the Dawnworld. The others had fallen into the habit of sleeping when tired, no matter how many hours they had been up.
Lee Chang and Ronny retired to their room. There were two windows and they could discover no way of darkening them. There were no drapes or blinds and evidently no mechanical means of opaquing them. It would seem that theDawnworlders slept in bright daylight. Ronny vaguely wondered if this perpetual light had always been so, or if it was a result of planetary engineering, perhaps some megayears ago. In either case, the need for dark to sleep comfortably would have evolved out of the Dawnmen, if they ever had it.
He wasn't up to sex, even if Lee Chang had been. The fact that she was doomed, even if he had a very remote chance of surviving, hung heavily over the two of them. They undressed, kissed, and took to separate beds.
She said, before they dropped off into sleep, "Ronny, during your years as a Section G operative, have you ever before been in a spot where it seemed impossible that you could survive?"
"Yes," he said.
After a moment, she said, "So have I, but never one where it seemed so very impossible."
There was no answer to that.
When they awakened, they made their toilets, dressed and returned to the living room to find nobody but Gil there. Gil and the dogs. Boy and Plotz had elected to spend their time here, rather than in the smaller bedrooms.
Boy looked up and said, "Boss, when do we eat? There's a big spread on the dining room table."
"I suppose now," Ronny told him. "Eat, drink and be merry for…" He broke it off. It wasn't funny, with Lee Chang there beside him. And, seated across the room, Gil, who had never been in physical combat in his life and was slated to go up against expert gladiators.
Lee Chang looked at him from the side of her almond eyes but she had the guts to be amused. She said softly, in her Lee Chang voice, "You've got a real touch there, darling."
"Sorry," he said gruffly. They headed for the dining room. Dorn was already there and making himself up a plate of the unappetizing looking Dawnworld dishes.
He said, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, "I am of the opinion that we should act on the basis that our best bet is to keep up our strengths—we'll need them."
The Dawnmen didn't have the institution of different dishes for different times of the day. The food presented at this meal was identical to that Ronny had eaten at the last one. The bee-hive culture, Ronny thought inwardly. But he heaped his plate, following Dorn's advice.
That worthy looked at Lee Chang thoughtfully. He said, "My dear, I am a physician, among other things. I could kill you quickly and almost painlessly, in seconds." Lee Chang looked at him and made an Oriental moue. She said, "Thanks, Dorn. But, no thanks. I follow the old saying, as long as there's life, there's hope. Besides, as I told you, I know kenpo. If at all possible, I'm going to get in at least one deadly blow at these funkers."
"Well said," Dorn rumbled. He turned back to his food, his face somewhat embarrassed.
Ronny had put down two plates for the dogs.
Boy chomped and said, "This stuff is grim. Don't they have meat on this planet?" Ronny said, "It would seem not. They don't even seem to have animal life at all. That captain, or whatever he was, of the Kshatriyas, not only didn't know what a pet was, but obviously had trouble in his telepathy in using the thought animal."
"Some world," Boy growled, but he went back to his food. Roy wandered in, yawning, and began to fill a plate. He said, "I wish that they at least supplied us with reading material, or some games, or something. I'm beginning to go around the bend from sheer boredom."
But it was then that a thought came into all of their minds. Prepare to receive us.
Chapter Nineteen
They filed back into the living room and found the others there. Gil said unhappily, "This is the first we've seen of any of them since they stuck us in here. I have a sneaking suspicion that the time has come for the annual ceremonies." The door opened and through it, swagger stick in hand, strode the Kshatriya officer, followed by two of his trident-bearing soldiers.
He faced them and the thought came, It is time for you to choose your weapons.
"Well, at least we've got a choice," Ronny muttered. The two soldiers posted themselves near the door, which had automatically closed. The officer approached the large center table, floating there without support and looked at its surface. The table disappeared, to reappear almost immediately covered with a wide range of weapons—hand weapons.
Ronny had never seen such a variety outside the museum in Greater Washington. Possibly half of them were unknown to the Earthlings, even from books. The rest resembled, in varying degrees, early weapons of Earth, some of them so primitive that it was difficult to believe that they would still be in use. There was even what was obviously a throwing stick, quite similar to a boomerang. There were spears in variety ranging from a flint-tipped throwing spear to metal-tipped javelins and pikes. There were various types of clubs, including a mace with a vicious-looking flanged metal head. There were swords of a dozen varieties, one even with a double blade looking as though it would make a clumsy weapon.
The six Earthlings looked down at the display in dismay. The collection looked terribly businesslike, and unlikely.
Each of you is allowed to choose two weapons for the fray. Ronny looked at the four men from Einstein. He said, "I suggest that you each choose a short spear, one of these metal tipped ones about six feet long. You'll use it for jabbing in protecting yourselves, rather than throwing. And a short sword, one of those that look Roman. None of you know fencing, but those have both points and double cutting edges. You can just flail away."
The four nodded dumbly and each in turn pointed out to the Kshatriya officer their choice.
Dorn, meanwhile, had taken up the largest of the swords, which looked considerably like a double handed Viking weapon of the Dark Ages of Earth. It was obviously meant to be used gripped with two hands, since its weight precluded an ordinary man from wielding it. But Dorn swung it back and forth singlehandedly with ease, his face thoughtful.
Ronny took up a heavy short spear of the type once known on Earth as a boar spear and considered it.
Boy looked at him and said, "How about me, Boss?" Ronny looked down at him and frowned, "How do you mean, Boy?" Boy hung out his tongue, gave a couple of pants and said, "We Vizslas were originally war dogs. For two thousand years or more we fought side by side with the Huns on their way from Siberia to where they finally settled down around Budapest. We're not this size for nothing and we don't have the speed we have for nothing. The Magyars, the Huns, raised us basically as war dogs."
Ronny stared at him. The Dawnworld Kshatriyas had never seen animals, evidently, not to speak of war dogs.
He turned to the Dawnman officer and said, "What are the rules pertaining to weapons that can be utilized in the arena?"
Any weapon can be utilized that predates powered projectiles.
"Very well, I demand the right to utilize a weapon of my own planet that predates projectiles."
The Kshatriya scowled at him. What weapon? You brought no weapons with you. He evidently hadn't taken in what Boy had said.
"A Magyar war dog."
" What is a Magyar war dog?"
Ronny pointed at Boy.
The other's face went blank for a moment. Then a new voice entered into the minds of the Earthlings. It was that of the Brahmin.
I have read your mind and memory and the information behind what you have said is correct. In the early days of Earth, men fought accompanied by their war dogs. Your request is acceptable. You shall be allowed the war dog and one other weapon. Plotz looked up at Dorn and said, "Cut me a piece of the steak. I don't like the smell of these people. In fact, they don't have a smell. Dogs go by smells, and I like you but not them."
Dorn had on his own come to the same conclusion as Ronny had. "All right," he said. He turned to the officer. "I'll take this sword and the female war dog." Ronny decided on his boar spear.
All the weapons were returned to the table which disappeared, to return almost immediately with four short spears, four short swords, Ronny's boar spear and Dorn's Viking-like double handed sword. The six men took them up and turned to look at the Kshatriya.
Follow me, he said in their minds and headed for one of the walls. They eyed him in puzzlement, but fell in behind.
The women will remain here.
The two soldiers who had been posted at the door followed after. Just before the officer reached the wall, an apperture opened in it and he marched through. The Earthlings followed along with the dogs and the two soldiers behind them. Rosemary called out in a choked voice, "Good luck, boys." Lee Chang looked after them wordlessly. The four Einstein men, in particular, hardly knew how to carry their weapons.
They emerged into what had every appearance of a medieval dungeon, a sizeable dungeon of crudely worked stone, a type of granite, by the looks of it. The dungeon was completely unfurnished. It was a far cry from the house they had just left. The room was out of the furthest past.
Gil looked blankly back at the now closed entry through which they had just passed. It had closed again, leaving no signs. The wall was of the same stone as the balance of the room. He said, "They've mastered how to go through underspace bodily. Instant transportation from one place to another, probably any distance." Nobody bothered to answer him.
Roy was looking pale about the gills. He said, "I think that I'm going to be sick." Ronny stepped up quickly and slapped his face. "Snap out of it," he snarled. "You got yourself into this. We're going to have to fight as a team. We need every man…" he looked down at the two grim Vizslas, "…and dog." Roy shook his head and looked embarrassed and had the courage to say, "Sorry. I'll do my best."
At the far side of the dungeon was a window barred with what looked like iron rods.
The officer gestured at it. The Arena, he thought at them. The six Earthlings went over and stared out.
They looked upon an arena which resembled one of the early Roman ones, perhaps the Collosseum. The floor of it was strewn with sand. The only difference was that there were no observers in the stands, which were dilapidated and looked as though no one had been seated in them for long millenia. It would seem that the Dawnworld people did not watch the gladiator battles. At least, not in person. Ronny suspected that there were the equivalent of Tri-Di lenses directed on the arena floor. Even as they watched, waiting for whatever was to come, heavy wooden doors opened on the opposite side and long rows of Dawnmen filed in, marching in perfect step.
They moved about in unison, taking positions that had obviously been previously set. The variety of weapons they carried was not extensive. It would seem that although a wide selection was offered, a few were preferred. The trident was prominent among them. So were various other types of spears. And most had, as an auxiliary weapon, some type of sword. Ronny could see none who carried a boomerang, though there were some who had heavy maces, rather than swords.
The officer's voice came into their minds. The first stage of the annual ceremonies will be conducted by aspiring members of the Kshatriya. Similar contests are being held throughout the planet and on every other planet of the…Dawnworlds. From among the survivors who have in particular triumphed, will be selected six who will have the honor of killing you.
"God damned savages," David muttered.
The gladiators flourished their weapons.
"We who are about to die, salute you," Dorn Horsten murmured. And suddenly the arena erupted into chaos.
"Watch carefully," Ronny rapped. "We aren't going to have much time to study their fighting methods, but you could pick up some ideas that might save your life later." Roy looked pale about the gills again, as the first Dawnman went down, a javelin through his belly and coming out his back. It was only seconds later that a trident man impaled a sword-wielding opponent, who survived long enough to completely sever his killer's head from his trunk.
Ronny was breathing deeply, even as he watched. Every man out there was handling his weapons like a veteran, with a skill denoting long years of drill. This was even worse that he had expected. They were all experts. They invariably fought one against one, not in teams. When a gladiator downed his immediate opponent, he turned to find another. Wounded men were mercilessly cut down, but once prone on the sands they were not finished off. Being reserved for the sacrificial altar, Ronny thought grimly. Indeed, red-kilted stretcher bearers began to appear and pick up the fallen wounded. The dead they let lie. Ronny was sorry now that he hadn't chosen a trident, rather than his boar spear. It was obviously one of the most efficient and vicious weapons in the arena, and highly preferred by the Dawnmen. The prongs were razor sharp and could be used for slashing as well as prodding.
